Thanks to everyone who's been reading! Special thanks to teyerin, pcdfan4life & drea78 for their reviews!!!

I don't own Without A Trace. If I did, I could stop grading papers for a living!!

Chapter 4

It had taken Andrew and Emily almost two hours to reach the southern end of the island and when they finally walked through the doors of the main lobby of St. Vincent's, Martin was again taken back how much Samantha and Emily resembled each other, yet at the same time, had their own unique qualities.

"Your nephew's fine. He was born about ninety minutes ago, healthy as a horse," Martin told them as they made their way to the bank of elevators.

"And Sam?" Emily's voice was a mere whisper, her hand tight in Andrew's.

He swallowed hard, "She's…um…she's in the ICU. We told her doctors you were on your way," Martin pushed the button for the Intensive Care floor.

Andrew was a smart man and understood the subtext, "She's not going to make it, is she?"

Martin could only shake his head around the lump in his throat.

In the waiting room, Jack stood, staring out the window, but not really seeing what was outside. His thoughts were turned inward, contemplating the cruel hand of fate that had been dealt to a newborn child. He heard the door open and turned, "Mrs. Reynolds, Mr. Reynolds, I'd like to say it's nice to see you again," he let the statement hang.

"Please, Mr.?" Andrew remembered Samantha's boss, but not his name. "Malone, yes, now I remember, um, please, I'm Andrew and this is Emily."

Jack nodded, "Of course, Andrew. The doctor's been waiting for you and Emily to arrive."

"So it's not too late?" Emily needed to know she could see her sister one last time.

He shook his head, "No, not yet. Danny should be out of surgery soon. The bullet that hit him was lodged in his shoulder. Elena's down in the surgical waiting room," Jack answered Martin's look.

"And Viv?" Martin asked.

"With Sam," Jack answered softly.

Emily kept one hand tightly in Andrew's, but reached her other to Martin. She and Samantha had done much to repair their relationship once the truth about their youth came to light and she knew that Samantha still loved this man. From what she had seen and could still see, he still loved her too, and losing her was killing him. "Can we see her?"

Jack nodded and led them all down the hall. He caught the eye of the on-duty nurse and gave her a purposeful nod, and watched as she went to find the doctor in charge of Samantha.

As she waited for the Reynolds to arrive, Vivian kept one eye on the hallway and one on Samantha; she couldn't stop the tears running down her cheeks. Knowing Samantha was already dead, only 'alive' by virtue of the machines really hurt. She had been looking forward to trading stories with Sam as her son grew. She had hoped Sam would come to her for advice about raising a boy in these crazy times. She imagined Samantha becoming the kind of mother every boy wanted—especially since she knew how to take down someone twice her size and carried a gun for a living. Vivian felt for the little boy asleep upstairs in the nursery who would never meet his mother. How would he ever know what a wonderful person she was and how much she loved him? Vivian moved into the hallway and without preamble, pulled Emily into a hug, "I'm so sorry, Emily."

Emily held on to the older woman, "Thank you for staying with her, Vivian." Never more grateful to her sister for introducing her to her colleague, Emily remembered the last time she was in the city and had met Sam and Vivian for lunch. They had talked about nothing and everything all at once. Their main topic of conversation was what Samantha was going to call her son. They had laughed until they cried over some of their crazy ideas. Emily's personal favorite was Doug. She pulled back, "I'm going to go in now."

Vivian nodded and squeezed her hand once more, "I've already said my good-byes. I'll head up to the nursery and keep an eye on the little one?"

"Sure," Emily answered absently, moving towards the small room where her sister lay. She felt Andrew's hands on her shoulder and waist as they made their way. "Sam never slept on her back," Emily said quietly, "She always was curled into a little ball. And she would wake up at the littlest noise." A small sob escaped her throat as she approached the bed, "Oh, Sammy! I don't want to say good-bye!" She reached out and held Sam's hand tight. It was already cool to the touch. Emily carefully brushed Sam's hair back and kissed her forehead, "I love you, Sam. We'll take good care of him for you and he'll always know you loved him too. You'll watch out for him, right?"

Andrew held Emily close and reached a hand to his sister-in-law's shoulder, "Samantha, thank you for allowing us to raise your son. We'll miss you," he kissed his wife's head and they just stood there, listening to the machine breathe for her and taking in their last few moments.

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